


I'll Be Home For Christmas

by terreisa



Series: The Swan and Firebird Trilogy [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Cursed Captain Hook | Killian Jones, F/M, Semi Angst, do not copy to another site, i was just feeling a bit festive in this universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 17:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17125550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terreisa/pseuds/terreisa
Summary: He can't seem to keep himself away from Gold's Pawn Shop, not when one of the items for sale holds a strange pull over him. It doesn't help that he's not getting a good night's rest either. A holiday flavored one-shot featuring a cursed Killian from the Swan and Firebird Trilogy.





	I'll Be Home For Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the events of A Crown and A Captain, during the year Killian was cursed. Can be read on its own.

**If Only In My Dreams**

“Shit!”

 

Kieran ducked into the building in a frenzied, frustrated state.  The sudden downpour that had sent him scrambling for cover hadn’t been in the forecast.  In fact, it was odd considering the temperatures the day before had been well into the eighties with clear skies for miles.  He didn’t think too much on it, not when he felt a headache coming on as he tried to remember exactly what the weatherman had predicted on the news the night before.  Instead he took a look around his temporary sanctuary and nearly groaned at where he found himself.

 

Gold’s Pawn Shop was a place no one wanted to enter, especially when they were desperate.  Its proprietor, only known around town as Mr. Gold, was notorious for getting the better end out of every sale, trade, and deal made with anyone foolish enough to do so.  Mr. Gold was merciless, unforgiving, and bordering on cruel. He also happened to own almost every building and piece of land in the miserable little town of Storybrooke. It gave him unprecedented power over practically every single person who lived there, Kieran included.

 

Luck seemed to be on his side.  Neither his clattering entrance nor the echoing ring of the bell over the door had brought Mr. Gold out from behind the curtain that separated the back from the front of the shop.  He only hoped his presence would continue to remain unnoticed until the rain let up and he could leave with only his wet bootprints to mark that he’d ever been there.

 

Curiosity got the better of him as he waited.  He’d never actually ventured into the pawn shop in all the years he’d been living in Storybrooke.  At first it was because he'd had nothing of value to sell, then because he didn’t fancy owing the man anything more than his monthly rent.  Of course if things didn’t go his way in court he’d end up having to pawn some things off to keep his ex, Jaqueline, from putting him in the poor house.

 

With a heavy sigh he began to meander around the shop.  He was amazed by the wide breadth of things Gold had collected.  There were swords sticking out of umbrella holders, oddly carved wooden puppets, more books than he could count, and multitudes of jewelry of every kind, shape, and value.  A ring that was half hidden behind an ostentatious green jewel that had to be costume jewelry caught his eye and he inexplicably found himself leaning closer to the glass to get a better look.

 

It was a finely crafted thing, gold and silver bands intertwining together like a rope that had somehow been dipped into the precious metals.  The ring was large, clearly meant to sit on the finger of a man and Killian felt a sudden twinge of phantom pain where his left hand should have been.  When he had taken off his wedding ring for the last time he’d felt nothing but relief and elation that it would never adorn his hand again. Looking at the ring in the case, however, he felt an immense sadness and loss, inexplicably knowing that whoever had previously owned the ring hadn’t parted with it easily.

 

“Ah, Mr. Jones.  See something that interests you?”

 

Kieran stood quickly and nearly knocked a gold painted harp crashing to the floor with his elbow.  Fumbling with it before he set it to rights he belatedly realized it was plated with gold, not painted as he’d thought.  Grimacing at the aching tingles that were racing up and down his arm along with the fact that he’d been caught unawares he turned to face Gold.

 

“Not particularly,” he said with affected coolness as he edged back towards the door. “Just trying to keep dry.”

 

“I would suggest an umbrella,” Gold sneered as he walked towards the case Keiran had been looking in.  He glanced down into it and looked back at him with eyes that glittered greedily, “Quite a discerning eye you have Mr. Jones.  The pieces in this case are all unique and rare, and each one worth a closer look. Are you certain there was nothing here that caught your eye?  A potential Christmas gift perhaps?”

 

“It’s August,” he said blandly.

 

Looking out the front windows he saw that the rain had slowed to a drizzle.  He didn’t give Gold the chance to try and snare him with any more of his sales pitch, slipping out of the shop with far more grace than he’d entered.

 

That night he dreamed of blonde hair and the sea but come morning he didn’t remember dreaming at all.

 

~*~

 

“Buggering hell!”

 

Kieran barely managed to catch the door before it slammed against the wall.  The biting wind that was gusting through the streets had caught him by surprise.  It had been far warmer the day before and the wind had been almost non-existent. He had been cursing the unreliability of the local weatherman when a sudden spate of hail had added to his misery and sent him scurrying for cover.

 

A quick look around the store he’d entered had him groaning under his breath.  He stayed as far away as he could from Gold’s Pawn Shop on a good day and not only because he distrusted the man who owned it.  As he contemplated ducking back out into the pelting hail storm another gust of wind sent all manner of detritus sailing into the shop.  With another curse he wrangled the door shut, resigned to waiting out the worst of the storm with the odious owner who was certain to make his presence known at any moment.

 

The shop was dimly lit, keeping most of its wares in shadow which made the bright neon pink and green flyers that had blown in with the wind all the more ostentatious.  With a huff of indignation and wondering why he even bothered he began picking them up from where they’d flown about the room. He snorted with surprised amusement when he read one of them and saw that Kooks had upped her crusade to keep her title as town nut by taking a swipe at the mayor and spouting nonsense about a magic spell all in screaming block font.

 

Still chuckling he reached for the last green atrocity that had somehow plastered itself to the glass front of one of the display cases and paused.  In the case were many bright, shiny things but only one caught his eye. The flyers fell unnoticed from his hand as he straightened to look at the silver and gold ring sitting innocuously on a small black pillow made of balding felt.

 

“See something that interests you, Mr. Jones?”

 

Kieran straightened quickly, biting off the third curse dancing on the tip of his tongue.  Mr. Gold, the shop’s owner, was standing in front of him with a look of disdain. He was at a loss as to how the man had managed to sneak up on him.  Gold wasn’t a man to be trifled with but he’d never been one for toeing the line of propriety.

 

“Not for the price you’re assuredly asking for these gold plated trinkets and pasted glass baubles,” he sneered, even as his eyes drifted back to the clearly well crafted ring.

 

“Odd that you don’t know the true value of these so called… baubles,” Gold sneered. “From what I’m given to understand you’ve quite the eye for treasure, among other rather undesirable loot, Hook.”

 

His lip curled at the moniker but held his tongue.  Gold clearly knew more than Kieran expected him to and continuing to mouth off would land him in deeper, deadlier waters.  Without a sound he spun on his heel and marched to the door, determined to leave before he was goaded further.

 

“Come back with some of your ill gotten gains soon, dearie,” Gold called after him as he wrenched the door open. “After all Christmas is just around the corner.”

 

He was halfway home before it occurred to him that it was only the middle of August.  Later that night his dreams were filled with mirthful green eyes and laughter that pealed out gleeful and teasing and meant just for him.  The next morning he couldn’t recall a single thing.

 

~*~

 

“Ah, Mr. Jones.  See something that interests you?”

 

Kieran looked up from the case he’d been peering into, blinking stupidly at Mr. Gold.  He’d wandered into Gold’s Pawn Shop for seemingly no good reason. It was cold outside, almost frigid, and he’d nearly had himself convinced he was just looking for somewhere to warm up.  He pushed away the thought that Granny’s would have been a better choice, even if he'd had to endure Ruby’s pointed glares. Considering the condescending look Gold was bestowing upon him he figured it was a toss-up on who loathed him more at the moment.

 

“Just wondering who you’ve swindled these precious heirlooms from,” he said looking back down into the case.  His eyes were unerringly drawn to a gold and silver ring nestled among the treasures, “Although more the pity to the person who believes they’d get a fair deal from you in the first place.”

 

“It’s a lovely piece,” Gold said silkily instead of rising to his bait.  He deftly opened the case and pulled the ring out, “Would make a fine Christmas gift don’t you think?”

 

His hand was already reaching for the ring when Gold’s words caught up with him.  Looking up he saw that Gold was watching him greedily. For a moment he thought he saw a yellow gleam in his eyes but dismissed it as a trick of the light.

 

“It’s the middle of August,” he said warily, though the frigid weather was giving him pause.

 

“All the better to get a head start wouldn’t you say, dearie?” Gold grinned toothily and the sight had Keiran stepping back.

 

“That’s what Amazon’s for,” he said weakly, turning for the door, “Gives me plenty of wiggle room come December.”

 

“I think you’ll find the month will be here sooner than you think.  I’ll just keep this ring on hold for you, shall I?”

 

“Not necessary.”

 

Stepping out of the shop he fought the urge to slam the door shut behind him.  The bitter cold seeped under his leather jacket with icy tendrils and had him shivering before he’d made it ten feet away from the shop.  By the time he made it to his flat his lips were chapped and his ears burned from the cold despite turning up his collar.

 

It was hardly late afternoon but he felt inexplicably tired, as though he’d spent half his night awake tossing and turning.  Once he settled himself on his threadbare couch with a cup of tea liberally dosed with rum he found his thoughts turning back to the beautifully crafted ring.  As the shadows deepened and his mug emptied his eyelids grew heavy, his last thought wondering what unlucky bastard had given up possession of something so valuable to someone so loathsome.

 

His dreams were fraught with purple smoke and wicked laughter, fire at his left wrist and agony in his heart.  It was only near dawn that he settled as his sleeping mind conjured images of a swan who transformed into a beautifully fierce blonde woman who called him Killian and looked at him with something akin to love.  When the morning sun woke him only an hour or so later he found himself at a loss as to how he’d fallen asleep on his couch the night before let alone any of the dreams that had plagued him throughout the night.

 

~*~

 

“It’s the middle of August,” Kieran scoffed, his finger hovering over the silver and gold ring Gold had brought out of the display case without prompting.

 

He had no idea why he’d entered Gold’s Pawn Shop.  He didn’t much care to reason it out. Much like he didn’t want to overthink how Gold had somehow known what had caught his eye in the few seconds he’d been staring down at the multitude of jewellery on display.

 

“Let’s just say I’m filled to the brim with good cheer,” Gold said snidely.

 

Kieran ignored him.  There was something about the ring that was pulling at him.  He knew for a fact that he’d never seen it before but he couldn’t help feeling that it was meant for him.  Gently picking it up from the little threadbare pillow it sat on he brought it up to his eyes, nearly crossing them as he examined it closely.  The ring somehow gleamed in the dim shop entrancing him further.

 

As he twisted it in his fingers to slip it over his thumb he was suddenly struck by a sharp spike of pain through his head.  He heard the ring clatter to the ground as he groaned and pressed both his hand and his prosthetic to his temples in an attempt to assuage the agony he was feeling.  Just as quickly as it had come on it disappeared, leaving him with watering eyes and wary of another wave of misery.

 

“If you think losing a costly item in my own shop will absolve you of having to pay for it you’re sorely mistaken, dearie.”

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll find your bloody ring,” he grit out.

 

With cautious movements he scanned the floor of the shop.  Finally his eyes caught a gleam of metal under the lip of one of the display cases.  He gingerly bent down, hesitating slightly before picking it up, not quite certain that it wasn’t the ring itself that had caused the attack.  As quickly as he could he straightened and nearly slammed the ring down on top of the case to rid himself of it. Unwilling to hear anymore recriminations out of Gold’s mouth and feeling as though demons were nipping at his heels he hastily fled from the shop.

 

Almost as soon as he was out the door he ran headlong into someone, causing the both of them to go tumbling down into the snow that was piling up along the sidewalk.  Another spike of pain lanced through his head as he tried to remember if it had ever snowed in the height of summer. With shaky limbs and the feel of his heartbeat pounding in his skull he stood up and looked down to see who he’d knocked over.

 

“Kooks!” He blurted once he recognized Regina Mills through the dusting of snow over her layers of coats, scarves, and hair.  He offered her his hand to help her up, “Are you alright?”

 

“What were you doing in Gold’s shop?” She asked, ignoring his gesture completely as she stood with ease.

 

“I- er, I was just… why do you care?” He asked defensively.

 

“Because you’ve been going in there every day for the past two months and you just ran out of there like you’d seen Marley’s ghost-” she looked at him shrewdly, “You never stepped foot in there before that.  So, I’ll ask again, what were you doing in Gold’s shop?”

 

“I haven’t been in that shop at all before today,” he said heatedly.  His right eye began to throb and the place where his left hand used to be felt as though it were being crushed by a vice, “I have to go.”

 

“Right, of course you wouldn’t remember and here I thought you might actually get me somewhere.  Well, if you’re visited by three ghosts tonight send them my sister’s way,” Regina grumbled as she dusted the snow off herself.

 

“Three ghosts?  And did you say Marley earlier?  What on earth are you talking about?” He asked slightly hysterical even as the pain was once more ebbing away.

 

“Not that you know or care but I’m pretty sure it’s Christmas Eve.  My count may be off by a day or two though.”

 

“It’s the middle of August!” He shouted, his voice echoing along the street.

 

Regina hadn’t flinched at his outburst, looking almost bored, “Believe what you want, you’ll just forget it all by tomorrow anyway.”

 

Kieran had had enough.  He stalked away from her as quickly as he could over the slick sidewalks.  When he made it to his flat snow had begun falling lazily from the clouds overhead and his head was pounding.  Barely bothering to remove his boots and jacket he collapsed on his bed. Dragging a blanket over his head to block out the light he fell quickly into a deep sleep.

 

_He was walking along a snowy path, the trees on either side somehow felt older than the woods surrounding Storybrooke.  The air was crisp, or at least it seemed that way from how his breath was pluming out of his mouth though he couldn’t feel the cold.  For the first time in what felt like a lifetime he felt as though he was where he was meant to be, where he truly belonged. It was then he realized that he wasn’t alone._

 

_“There you are,” a soft, feminine voice said to his right. “I’ve been looking for you.”_

 

_He turned towards the voice but it was as though there was a delay between his thoughts and his actions.  When he was finally looking where he intended the owner of the voice was gone and he saw nothing but more trees._

 

_A snort of amusement came from his left, “You could have left me a map at least.  You know, X marks the spot and all.”_

 

_With another impossibly slow turn of his head he found himself looking across the deck of an old wooden ship, seeing nothing but blue ocean and snowflakes drifting down from a gunmetal grey sky.  His hand tightened around the spoke of large wooden wheel at the helm where he found himself._

 

_“Have you missed me?” She asked in a small voice from behind him._

 

_He spun on his heel and nearly fell over at how quickly he moved.  No longer standing on the deck of the ship he was standing in the doorway of a rather large living room.  There was a telescope set up at one of the windows, a large painting of birch trees hanging on one wall, and an unlit fireplace on another.  However what caught his eye was a nearly ten foot pine tree in the opposite corner from him. It was decorated to the nines for a Christmas holiday and as he looked around he realized the entire room was decked out in festive adornments as well.  Just as he was about to step forward an arm wrapped around his waist._

 

_“Welcome home.”_

 

_“Thanks, love,” he replied brushing long blonde hair out of the way as he draped his arm over slim shoulders._

 

_She looked up at him and it was as though someone socked him in the chest.  He knew the curve of her cheek, the tilt of her smile, the shifting specks of blue in her eyes.  Somehow he knew her._

 

_“You found me,” he breathed._

 

_“I’ll always find you,” she laughed, shaking her head.  She tugged on his arm, “Come on.”_

 

_They sat in front of the stone hearth of a fireplace that was large enough for three men to stand in.  Candles flickered on nearly every flat surface around them while snow fell steadily past windows that stretched from floor to ceiling.  She burrowed further into his side under a thick woolen blanket , fingers idly caressing his blunt wrist._

 

_“Merry Christmas, Killian,” she whispered, leaning up to kiss him under his jaw._

 

_“Happy Christmas, Swan.”_

 

_He bent to kiss her in turn when the popping of a log in the fire distracted him.  Turning to glare at the flames he instead found himself looking into nothing but darkness._

 

Kieran woke with a start.  His radio alarm was blaring some annoying pop song.  With a growl he shut it off feeling as though he hadn’t gotten a wink of decent sleep the night before.  He threw off the blanket that was covering his head, wondering why he’d needed it the night before when it was the middle of summer.  When the answer eluded him he sighed and went about getting ready for his day.

 

He was walking through town, wondering how it was possible for there to be snow piled deeply along the roadsides when he slowed to a stop.  Gold’s Pawn Shop was not a place he’d ever find himself willingly entering but there was something about it that seemed to be calling to him.  Shaking his head to try to dispel the feeling he only felt the impulse grow stronger. Just as he went to reach for the handle someone stepped in front of him.

 

“And here I thought Walsh was lying about what he’d overheard between you and Regina yesterday.”

 

Killian sneered at Viridans, the town’s mayor and the woman who had ordered his brother’s murder.  She was looking at him with narrowed eyes.

 

“Don’t have a bloody clue as to what you’re talking about,” he said, annoyed. “I didn’t talk to anyone yesterday.”

 

He moved to step around her, still feeling the need to go in the shop.  She blocked his path. He stepped to the other side and she moved with him, frowning deeply.

 

“Get out of my way,” he snarled

 

“Oh, this won’t do.  Not when you could ruin everything,” she muttered.  Sneering at him she raised her closed fist to her mouth, “What a waste of golden poppy dust.”

 

Before he could ask what the hell she meant she opened her hand and blew a glittering pile of fine dust into his face.  He spluttered, breathing in more of the dust as he tried to wipe it off. Just as he was about to yell at her for attacking him the world felt as if it was collapsing.  The last thing he was able to comprehend was Viridans wishing him a merry Christmas.

 

~*~

 

“See something that interests you, Jones?”

 

“Just that nearly full bottle of rum but I’ll settle for a glass of it for now.”

 

Kieran wasn’t usually one for drinking in the middle of the day but for some reason as he had been walking in town he’d felt the sudden urge for a little nip.  With the cold rain usually reserved for early spring pouring away outside he’d seen no reason to fight the pull. It wasn’t as though he was planning on making a habit of it after all.


End file.
